


the chair

by ohjustpeachy



Series: Tony Stark Bingo Fills [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24138658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustpeachy/pseuds/ohjustpeachy
Summary: “Excuse me, I think you’re in my seat.”Steve looks up from the beer he’s been nursing and blinks in the face of the man who’d spoken. He's fairly sure no one had been sitting here when he sat down. Normally, Steve would probably just apologize and slide down a seat, but he just… wasn’t in the mood for that tonight. Plus, the cocksure look on the man’s face makes him think he's up to something.Or, Tony Stark walks into a bar and turns Steve's whole night around.Inspired by the George Strait song The Chair.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark Bingo Fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601260
Comments: 17
Kudos: 337
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	the chair

**Author's Note:**

> For the Tony Stark Bingo Card (#3049) square A2: Meet ugly

“Excuse me, I think you’re in my seat.” 

Steve looks up from the beer he’s been nursing and blinks in the face of the man who’d spoken. He's fairly sure no one had been sitting here when he sat down. Normally, Steve would probably just apologize and slide down a seat, but he just… wasn’t in the mood for that tonight. Plus, the cocksure look on the man’s face makes him think he's up to something. 

Steve shakes his head, looking around. “That’s funny... I don’t see a name on it.” 

The man smiles, transforming his face from confident and cocky to something warmer, almost friendly. His eyes are brown, and the way they crinkle up at the sides when he smiles is not _entirely_ unpleasant, Steve can’t help but notice. 

He looks away, but the man won’t be dissuaded. 

“No name, but I _was_ sitting there. I just had to go outside to make a call. I thought it would be easy, one-two-three kind of thing, but apparently it took long enough for _someone_ to steal my seat.” The man flashes another megawatt smile, and Steve can’t help but laugh, the tension melting right out of him. 

“There’s a seat right there, surely that one’s just as good,” Steve says mildly, pointing at the bar stool beside him. Was he really inviting this guy to sit with him? Though at this point anything is better than the bleak reality of his night: he’d been stood up. 

“Tell you what,” the stranger says, like he’s about to grant Steve an enormous favor. “I’ll let you buy me a drink for it.” To Steve’s amazement, Smooth Talker actually _winks_ at him. Seriously, who _is_ this guy? 

“Does that actually work? Asking people to buy you drinks, just like that?” Steve asks, incredulous. Part of him knows that it must work, though, because in addition to clothes that are clearly well-made and expensive, the head full of thick, dark curls and the dark eyes to match, the guy has an air of self confidence that Steve would kill for in situations like this.

“You tell me.” 

Steve shakes his head, laughing again. He’s charmed, despite himself. “What’ll it be?”

“I’ll have what you’re having.”

Smooth. _So_ smooth. Steve should be getting up and walking away right now, but something about the easy nature of the man beside him keeps him rooted to his seat. So instead of leaving, Steve flags down the bartender and orders two beers, another for himself and one for… he stops. The guy hadn’t even introduced himself. 

“Want to at least tell me your name if you’re planning to join me this evening?” Steve asks. The bartender comes back with two bottles, nodding his thanks when Steve peels off a few extra dollars and hands them over. He comes here often enough to know the staff fairly well: friendly, willing to leave him be when he doesn’t feel like talking. It’s his favorite place for that very reason. 

“Tony,” the brunette says. “Tony Stark.” 

“Steve Rogers,” Steve says. “Nice to meet you. I think.”

Tony laughs. “I’ve been told I’m an acquired taste. I’ll just have to convince you.” 

Steve can’t think of anything to say to that, unaccustomed to such open and apparent… _flirting?_ Is that what this is? He hasn’t dated much recently, but he isn’t entirely green. 

Tony takes a long pull of his drink before looking at Steve again. “So,” he says. 

“So…”

“Were you waiting for someone? I didn’t completely derail your night, did I?” 

Steve heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “No. I mean, yes, I was. But you didn’t, well…” 

Tony puts a hand on Steve’s arm, warm and familiar, like he hadn’t just sidled up minutes ago and turned Steve’s brain upside down. “Easy, big guy,” he says. That same easy smile follows, and Steve relaxes again. 

“Sorry. I was supposed to meet someone here, actually. But they never showed up. So, no, you didn’t derail my night. Technically it was already off the tracks by the time you sat down.” 

“You? Stood up? Shit. What hope do the rest of us have if _you_ get stood up?” Tony asks, then shakes his head. 

Steve feels his cheeks grow warm. He knows he’s an attractive enough guy, but things never seem to pan out for him in the dating department. He’s awkward, he knows that, too, and finds the whole concept of dating mostly unbearable. He hasn’t dated anyone in over a year, which is why he’d let Bucky talk him into being set up with his friend from work in the first place. He's not sure which is worse: the idea that they couldn’t be bothered to show up at all, or the idea that they came, saw him, and left. His stomach tenses when he looks back at Tony. The last thing he wants is a stranger’s pity, but that’s not what he finds when he looks up. No, Tony's looking at him in quiet disbelief, but there’s nothing pitying in his gaze. 

Emboldened by this, Steve shrugs. “Somehow, I don’t think you do too bad for yourself, either.” 

Tony raises his eyebrows, and Steve is a little pleased at having surprised him. “Me? I’m a piping hot mess. My ex will tell you everything you need to know about that.” 

Steve hums thoughtfully, and reaches for his beer. _This_ is the part he’s always been terrible at. Moving the conversation along. Being _funny_ and _charming_ the way Tony Stark clearly is, even with a complete stranger. 

“Well,” Tony says, filling the silence with ease, “It’s her loss.” 

Oh.

Steve pauses. “Uh, _his_ , actually. But it’s okay. It was a setup. Friend of a friend kind of thing.” He shrugs. 

Tony’s eyebrows lift again. “Well, _his_ loss is my gain, then, Steve Rogers.” Tony lifts his beer. It’s half empty, but he holds it out nonetheless. “To new friends.”

Steve clinks his bottle against Tony’s. “To new friends,” he repeats. 

“Even if you stole my seat.” Tony’s eyes sparkle, teasing.

“You got a drink out of it, didn’t you?” 

Tony just winks at him again, taking a final sip of his drink. “I did. And it’s only fair that the next one’s on me.”

It’s easier after that; the conversation just seems to _flow_. There’s none of the long awkward pauses Steve has come to dread. No, he just listens as Tony tells him about his company, Stark Industries, which he took over from his father, and tells Tony about the contract graphic design work he’s been doing lately. 

“Just until something more permanent comes along,” Steve adds. 

“I knew you looked broody when I came over here,” Tony smiles. “Must be the inner tortured artist thing.”

“I’m hardly tortured.”

Tony laughs. “Well, not anymore, I’m here.” 

“Right. Lucky me.” Steve tries for sarcastic, but his night _had_ taken an undeniable turn for the better from the moment Tony introduced himself. 

“Hey, I love this song,” Tony says suddenly. “They’re not half bad, for a cover band on a Thursday night,” he adds. 

Steve nods. “They play here a lot. They’re pretty good.” 

Tony’s eyes light up, and before Steve can argue, Tony's grabbing Steve’s arm and pulling. “Come on, let’s go dance.” 

He should shake his head. Insist that he can’t, won’t, simply _will not_ dance, but Tony seems to sense the forthcoming argument. “Just in case!” He says.

Steve frowns. “In case _what?_ ”

“In case the guy who had the nerve to stand you up is still here somewhere. He should know what he’s missing out on,” Tony insists.

Steve thinks about shaking his head no, but Tony’s grinning at him and Steve’s a few drinks in by now, and, well. Despite everything, he’s having _fun._ So he lets Tony lead him to the middle of the dance floor, where they’re one of maybe five couples dancing to a slow-ish old song. Tony’s arms are around him, strong and sure, and Steve’s about to make a joke, threaten to step on Tony’s feet, _something_ , but then Tony looks up at him, and all of those thoughts melt away. 

Tony’s earlier bravado is gone now, and in its place is something teetering on earnest as he shuffles them around the floor. He’s still smiling, but there’s a nervousness that definitely wasn’t there earlier. It makes Steve’s stomach flip a few times, his mouth going dry. _What is happening?_

The song winds down, and the rest of the couples clear the floor, but Tony doesn’t break his gaze. “Tell you a secret?” 

Steve tries to ignore the fact that Tony hasn’t let go of his hand. “Why do I get the feeling you have plenty of them?”

Tony just gives him another smile and leads them back to the bar and their drinks. “This wasn’t technically my seat, earlier.” 

Steve is inordinately pleased by this revelation. “You lied, _and_ let me buy you a drink in exchange for a seat that wasn’t even yours?” He feigns disbelief. It really is just… _easy_ being with Tony, in a way it never is with other people. Certainly not on a first date, and this is increasingly feeling like a first date.

“Yeah, yeah, I wanted an excuse to talk to you. I needed a line. I _did_ have to go outside for a phone call. But imagine my surprise when I got back and saw you, Mr. Blue Eyes, sitting all alone and sad at the bar? I had to step in.” 

“I’m hardly complaining,” Steve says quietly. 

“Good.” Tony seems truly relieved by this, and Steve is all too aware of the continued warmth of Tony’s hand in his. “I’m sure I can make it up to you. Give you a ride home, or…” Tony trails off, an unspoken question hanging in the air between them. 

“Well, it’s only fair. And to really make it up to me you’ll probably have to come in.” Steve can’t believe the words are leaving his mouth, but Tony’s bright smile gives him all the reassurance he needs. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Steve Rogers,” Tony says, voice low. “But I think we can make that work.” He squeezes Steve’s hand and leads them out into the night air.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm omg-just-peachy on tumblr, come say hi!


End file.
